Everyone's Scared of Something
by TechnoGirl317
Summary: Short-story collection of either John or Sherlock (or both!) suffering from different types of phobias. Not all are cannon. There's no slash, just strong friendship, and certainly nothing above T. Status is 'complete' unless I'm working on a multi-part chapter. Written because there seriously aren't enough phobia fics on here, and lets face it; everyone's scared of something.
1. Acrophobia- Sherlock

** A/N Heya! I has another Sherlock fic! As usual, yes, I have a bunch of stories already that I should work on, but while I'm waiting for ideas to pop up, I may as well keep myself entertained. =D**

** So, one of my many interests is different phobias, and I like putting characters in a situation where one crops up. So, this is really a short-story "what if?" series of Sherlock or John having different phobias. They don't have all the ones I mentioned accumulating, it's just different scenarios (because I'm cruel to characters :) ), but I will list the ones they have in the current chapter at the beginning (that are mentioned). **

**Some may have de-aged, sick, or hurt Sherlock and/or John. The same phobia may be mentioned twice with a different character as the receiver, some may be implied in the show, and I'll probably have flashbacks/backstories/other-forms-of-showing-reason for a good deal of them, though some may just be irrational.**

**Oh, by the way, none of these are meant to be slash, but some can probably be read like that if you want. **

**This will be labeled as complete, unless I'm working on a two/three-shot for it, because it's really a collection of completed stories. If I'm actually done, I'll let you know. ;)**

**Hope you enjoy! I'll take suggestions, but nothing above T, and no slash. Better yet, no pairings all together (at least, not in-depth). Mainly 'cause I suck at romance.**

** Disclaimer: Negative. Don't own.**

** Chapter info:**

** Phobia: Acrophobia- Fear of heights. (No, not meant to be a reference to S2 E3. In this chapter, that hasn't happened yet.)**

** Phobic: Sherlock.**

_**Italics= thoughts.**_

** Warnings: None really. **

** Rating: K+**

** Genre: Comfort and Friendship.**

**Place in series: Unimportant, as nothing's mentioned. I guess, if you're desperate for a placement, after The Great Game and long before the Reichenbach Fall. Happy? ;)**

** Sherlock's POV:**

"Come on, John!" I yelled behind me, still easily keeping up with the suspect (more like criminal) we were chasing across the rooftops.

I dodged a bullet (literally) and let out a laugh. The thrill of the chase! How ordinary people can live without this is beyond me.

_ Not that anyone has to know that. _I thought, jumping over another gap and looking back again to see John not that far behind.

Looking forward again, I grinned, admittedly a bit maliciously. We had finally met the dead end I had known was coming for _quite _a while.

I approached the suspect calmly. Quite in contrast to his frantic scramblings and desperate- needless to say _failed_- attempts to climb the wall of the taller building in front of us.

"You _do _realize you're trapped, right?" I said.

The man whipped out a (fake) gun, his eyes wild.

I laughed.

"Really? I think I know a real gun when I see one."

More desperate than ever, the man flung the "gun" down the gap between the buildings and flung himself at me with a deranged scream.

Amateurs.

The guy was pinned within seconds and very little effort, handcuffed moments later when John came with them.

Soon enough, Lestrade was leading the criminal away, and I wandered to the edge of the roof- which for some reason had a railing on it- before Donovan could start bugging me with her ridiculous taunts. Especially the extremely repetitive "Freak" remark.

Leaning over the railing slightly, I let a rare grin slip, and it only grew when John walked up beside me, placing his crossed arms on the railing.

But it started to slip as the adrenaline wore off, being replaced by what I imagine was a slightly panic-stricken expression, slightly heavy breathing that gradually grew heavier, and my hands gripping the railing so hard my knuckles went white.

After about thirty seconds, it all escalated. And of course, the rest kicked in; I started shaking and nearly sunk down to my knees. My mind started to fog up, making it slightly hard to think, and the ground below me seemed to get farther away and spin.

_Nonono, not now, please not now. Need to get down need to get down need to get down-_

"Well, that went well, don't you think Sherlock? Sherlock?" John said. Despite the fact that I _knew _John was _right next to me,_ no matter how many times I told myself that, it was hard to convince myself he wasn't shouting through a tunnel from a fair half-mile away by this point.

My hands somehow clenched the railing tighter and I started shaking harder, finally sinking to my knees slowly, my eyes still fixed on the sidewalk below me.

I yelped as I felt a hand on my arm and whipped my head around only to see John crouched down, looking at me, concerned.

"Sherlock, are you ok?" He asked, still gripping my arm.

I swallowed thickly. "John-" I choked out.

John's dark eyes widened and I saw my reflection in them; face even paler than usual and panic-stricken, dark, curly hair sticking out all over from the chase, pale mint-green eyes wild.

I looked like a mad man.

But at the moment, I couldn't care less.

I just wanted to get out of there.

And I knew John would help me... If I could get him to understand the problem.

"Sherlock, what's wrong?" He asked slowly, calmly, the undercurrent of worry nearly undetectable as he started rubbing my arm comfortingly.

I swallowed again and tried to speak, getting out a few coherent words. "John, help... too high... get down..." I glanced back to the ground for effect.

I immediately seized up, starting to shake again, breathing speeding up, the world starting to spin in front of my eyes and there's a fairly good chance I whimpered a little.

I clenched my eyes shut. _Should've thought that one through a bit more..._

Seeing as my brain was fogging up even more, it's a bit of a surprise I could feel John's hand moving to my back and rubbing circles on it. Even more a surprise I could hear what he was saying, even if it sounded like it was from the other side of a tunnel again.

"Come'n, Sherlock, you're ok. Just breathe, you'll be fine, just keep breathing."

"Can't." I managed through clenched teeth.

"Ok, ok, just do what I do, Sherlock. Just copy me."

Suddenly, I felt my right hand being pried from the railing and placed on someone's- John's- chest.

"See? Breathe in, now out." John said, deliberately taking deep and slow breaths.

I copied him, and finally, my breathing started to even out.

When I was a good ways away from hyperventilating, I opened my eyes a little, quickly averting my gaze to John, who now looked a little relieved.

"Come on, let's get down from here." He said, helping me up and putting both hands on my shoulders, making me look him in the eyes.

I nodded rapidly. "Yes, please." I said softly.

John smiled gently and we found the way down, his arm around my shoulder the whole time.

When John and I finally got down to the sidewalk, I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding and hailed a cab, getting into it as fast as possible and saying, "221B Baker Street."

As the cabbie started driving, I looked away from John, embarrassed; but not quite enough to shrug off his arm.

"Erm... sorry about that, John." I said.

"Huh?" John asked, startled. "Oh... oh, it was no problem! But what was that about? You've been on the roof like that several times, and you've never reacted like that."

"The adrenaline wore off." I replied shortly.

"Still, you could've told me you had acrophobia."

I shrugged. "Forgot momentarily. That hasn't happened in years!"

"Oh."

There was an awkward pause. Then: "When did it start? If you don't mind me asking."

I sighed. "It started when I was about eight-years-old and Mycroft decided that forcing me to try bungy-jumping was a 'brilliant idea.'"

"Yeah, that'd do it."

More silence.

"If you tell anyone I'm scared of heights-"

"You're secret's safe with me, Sherlock." John interrupted.

I grinned at him. "Thanks John."

**-  
A/N Yeah, not the best ending, but it's late, I wanted to finish, and I'm horrible at endings.**

** Hope you liked it, though!**

** And yes, I'm aware of the glaringly obvious OOCness on Sherlock's part, but phobias will make you do weird things.**

** I have a small list of other phobias to do, but if there's a specific one you wanna see, just review or PM and I'll do my best!**

** 'Till next time, people!**


	2. Agoraphobia- Sherlock

**Hey guys! Thanks for all the favorites/follows! And if course, thanks to TheEyeOfThePheonix (your idea will probably be next) and Ziggy for reviewing! Loved the ideas! **

**Speaking of which...**

**Ziggy: I actually already had that down, but if you have a particular scenario in mind ('cause I'm assuming when you said "he," you meant Sherlock) I'd love to hear it! **

**I've also decided that most of these phobias will be able to be explained fairly easily, possibly to the point of seeming cannon. For example, I won't do stuff like (current) chemophobia or hemophobia (fear of chemicals and fear of blood), because in their line of work, it's unavoidable. However, if there's something like that you want to see, I can have a chapter of one of them having it in the past and how they got over it.**

** Fairly short A/N this time. Huh. Well, here you go!**

** Also note, some phobias have multiple definitions. My chapter info section will show which one(s) I'm using, and if it's multiple, will specify who has which one. Capiche? ;)**

** (Edit, 1/6/14) Hey, guys, sorry I've taken so long. Anyway, I couldn't stand the mistakes in here, so I decided to fix them.**

**Also, there will probably be a mark 2 of this chapter. Since I wrote it so fast, I forgot my initial plan, and I still kind of want to do it.**

**Oh, next up will probably be arachnophobia. I've had four people request it (never thought I'd say that! *Squee!*) and two have given scenarios for it, so I'll be working on those. Should have plenty of time, since I can't go to school (bronchitis, yay). So all I have to do is force myself to do it. ;)**

**Chapter info:**

**Phobia: Agoraphobia- fear of crowds.**

**Phobic: Sherlock.**

_**Italics= thoughts.**_

**Warnings: Still none.**

**Rating: K+**

**Genre: Hurt/Comfort and Friendship.**

**Place in Series: Unimportant, as nothing's mentioned except something from A Study in Pink. I guess, if you're desperate for a placement, sometime after The Great Game and long before the Reichenbach Fall. Happy? ;)**

** Sherlock's POV**

_And people _wonder _why I call Mycroft my archenemy, _I thought as he told John and I what we had to do; our _orders,_ basically.

Seriously, what _idiot _sends their agoraphobic brother to a (very crowded) party?

Mycroft, that's who. I wouldn't be surprised if he forgot all about me having it.

But I wasn't going without a fight. I tried to convince John this was a bad idea, ("Come on, John, there's no point! We aren't stopping or investigating a murder or protecting foreign ambassadors or something! Mycroft's just having us go to have the satisfaction of knowing I'm suffering through it with him!") but to no avail.

So that's how I found myself being almost literally dragged through the door by my blogger- fine, _friend- _despite my protests of, by that time, "But John!"

"Stop being such a child, Sherlock! Jeez, anyone would think you were a five-year-old!"

- Line Break -

**At the party:**

My eyes darted around the room, from large group of people to larger group of people, trying to find a way out before I lost it completely.

John had, unknowingly, helped me with this; somehow, his presence kept me calm longer than normal. But inevitably, the crowded room just got to be too much.

_Come on come on come on... Ah-ha!_

I practically ran towards the door I had spotted, leading to the roof.

But when it was only a few yards away...

_CRASH!_

I winced at the sound of dishes falling to the floor and caught myself before I followed their example, having tripped over a (way too long) tablecloth and pulling everything off of the table in the process.

Luckily for everyone, it didn't have more than the guests' miscellaneous beverage glasses on it.

I didn't even look back as I regained my footing and sprinted the rest of the way to the door and up the spiral staircase into the cool night air.

I closed the door behind me and leaned against the wall, taking slow, deep breaths, my arms crossed over my chest.

_Well, that went well. _I thought, slightly sarcastically when I reigned in my panicked thoughts enough to do so. _At least I lasted longer than normal._

I started as I felt a strong, but comforting, hand on my shoulder and looked up to see John.

Either he was being really quiet, or I didn't hear him over the roaring in my ears.

I looked down, expecting he would be mad for me practically knocking over a table at a fancy party, but what I heard was his gentle voice asking:

"Is this why you sort of freaked out when Lestrade called a drugs bust that time?"

I may have let out a little sigh of relief. I've learned that Angry John= Run. It's like his vicious alter ego or something.

"Yeah. It was a little too crowded." I said, looking back up into John's eyes.

I felt John's hand tighten on my shoulder a little bit. "Seriously, what _idiot _sends their agoraphobic brother to a party like this?"

"That's what I thought!"

"And why didn't you tell me you were agoraphobic?"

I shrugged. "It's one of those things I don't normally share, and you probably would've thought it was an empty excuse."

Now it was John's turn to look down. "Yeah, probably."

He looked back up again after a few seconds, and I saw a spark of curiosity in his eyes.

I answered the unspoken question. "You try getting lost in a crowded mall at roughly the age of three and a half and not coming out unaffected."

John nodded.

A little more silence. Then John questioned, "Do you want to head home, or just ride out the party up here?" _And give the British Government a piece of my mind afterwards? _I added in my head. (For John, not me. Though it didn't sound like a bad idea.)

I grinned. "I assume you want to give my brother a piece of your mind?"

"Oh _God _yes."

"Sounds good to me."

- Line Break -

**After the party at 221B:**

"Can't wait to see how he covers up the black eye you gave him, John!" I laughed. The look on Mycroft's face when John punched him was priceless; as was the one when John reminded him of my agoraphobia.

"_That _will be interesting!" He responded, laughing with me. Then he turned serious. "But really, _how _does someone completely forget something like that?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, but I do wish I had a camera for that."

_Three, two, one..._

And we burst into laughter.

** A/N Urg, why are my endings so awful! Well, I have justification this time: I was in a hurry and wanted to get this done tonight, so I wrote it in about 20 minutes (which consequently could mean spelling/grammar errors, so I apologize for that). And sorry it's so short.**

**Well, I hope you liked it anyway, and again, if you have a phobia you want to see, just let me know and make sure you have a specific phobic and scenario! If you don't have a preferred phobic/scenario, just let me know and we'll see what I come up with!  
Thanks for reading!**


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